


Scenes [3 of 5]

by lone_lilly



Category: Castle
Genre: Car Sex, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-05-12
Updated: 2012-05-12
Packaged: 2017-11-05 06:45:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/403535
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lone_lilly/pseuds/lone_lilly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>five scenes without a plot to call home makes a story</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scenes [3 of 5]

**Author's Note:**

> This is for everyone who couldn't or didn't want to read Scenes II. As well as for everyone who read it anyway. :) Fits prompt _19\. Greedy_ [here](http://la-scapigliata.dreamwidth.org/32579.html)

  


**Title:** Scenes [3 of 5]  
 **Author:** [](http://lone-lilly.dreamwidth.org/profile)[**lone_lilly**](http://lone-lilly.dreamwidth.org/) || [](http://onlylonelilly.livejournal.com/profile)[**onlylonelilly**](http://onlylonelilly.livejournal.com/)  
 **Fandom:** _Castle_  
 **Pairing:** Castle/Beckett  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Spoilers:** through season 4 although no real spoilers  
 **Summary:** five scenes without a plot to call home makes a story  
 **Notes:** This is for everyone who couldn't or didn't want to read Scenes II. As well as for everyone who read it anyway. :) Fits prompt _19\. Greedy_ [here](http://la-scapigliata.dreamwidth.org/32579.html)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

III.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
_You surround me, pull me, drown me, swallow me whole_   


 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Limousines are dangerous things.

She'd always been fascinated by them when she was growing up. The tinted windows, all that space. People could literally be doing _anything_ inside and the outside world would never know. Celebrating. Fighting. Screwing. All of it private but not at the same time.

Even when she was younger she had understood the appeal of that. Especially when she'd first ridden in one, as a teenager on her way to prom, with her boyfriend's sweaty hand between her knees and her friend Janie passing around a joint, all of them sipping a cheap bottle of wine and pretending they were already adults.

If they had gotten busted by the cops that night, they would have been so dead, but they hadn't and the magic of that night had always stayed with her, eliciting a small thrill whenever she sees one pass on the streets. Or when she gets the rare opportunity to ride in one.

And Castle, God bless him, seems to be picking up on that. Or maybe he has his own limousine fetish. Or maybe she'd teased him past the point of decency at his book party. _Whatever._ So, she'd gotten tired of wearing her underwear and he was the only one with a pocket. Was she _not_ supposed to have given them to him to hold onto for her?

The looks he had given her the rest of the night told her he hadn't really minded. Truthfully, she'd been kind of surprised they'd made it into the limo before he was on her, hands pushing up underneath her dress, his tongue _fucking_ her mouth in the most deliciously lewd way and, really, she wouldn't have been bothered at all if this had happened in the bathroom or the coat room or the _anywhere_.

But they're in his limo and she's in his lap, one hand fisted in his shirt and the other in his hair and maybe it was the champagne, or the excerpt from his latest Nikki Heat book, or something else she can't even define, but she doesn't think she's ever wanted someone this badly in her _life_.

"God, Castle," she gasps when he finally breaks their kiss, her lungs burning with the need to breathe his air again. His mouth is hot along her neck instead, teeth grazing lightly until she hums with it, his fingers dancing up her thighs, teasing, making her rock restlessly in encouragement until he finally drags a finger along her folds seeking out her arousal.

"I don't remember you getting so hot at the other book parties," he murmurs against the hollow of her throat, lapping there, and she can hear the fucking smug satisfaction in his voice that shouldn't make her want him more but somehow does anyway.

"How would you know?" she teases, rolling her hips against the bulge at his thigh, grinding, the sensual feel of his pants against her bare skin making this little fantasy of hers that much more illicit. _Naughty_.

"That's mean. I _wanted_ to know."

"Mm-maybe," she starts, stutters as his finger slips inside her easily, curving. Stretching. _Oh._ And then there's two and she wants to see, needs to see him, so she drops her hand to her dress, pulls it up enough that they can both watch as he cups her, fingers working her up into a panting mess.

"You are a dirty, filthy woman," he growls, capturing her mouth again briefly, too quickly before he breaks away to look down at his hand again, her sex, the way she sways against him making sure her clit bumps his palm with every thrust. The way his hand glistens in the dim light of the streets because she's just _that_ wet.

"Not sorry," she moans, reaching for him, one handedly trying to tug open his fly while the other finds the shape of him through his clothes, thick and ready, throbbing. She's greedy for him; too uncoordinated to pull this off smoothly, too desperate to care.

"So, what was it? My devilishly handsome physique in this tuxedo? My unequivocal flair with words? My inherent ability to charm a crowd?"

"Maybe it was having to sit next to Black Pawn's administrative staff all evening while they wondered what you look like naked."

"Oooh. Jealous, Detective Beckett?" He lifts delighted eyes to hers just as she finally manages to free the zipper from its claws and she gets to watch the naked want flicker over his face as she shoves her hand inside, lifting him out. Hers for the taking. And, oh, how she wants him. Everywhere. Anywhere. _Now_.

"In your dreams, Castle," she mutters, rolls her eyes to keep from groaning when he twists his fingers inside her in retaliation. He has her so close already, _already_ , and that's so not even fair because he's taunting her, and she _was_ jealous, wasn't she? But he doesn't need to know that and she will _not_ come on his fingers and prove him right.

"You _sound_ jealous."

"Why would I be jealous? I _know_ what you look like." She lets her gaze drift down pointedly to his cock, her thumb circling the tip, fingernail scratching oh so carefully, making him shudder. There's a condom in her purse-- she knows better than to leave home without them now-- and she reaches for it blindly, ripping the package with her teeth so she can roll it down his length, smoothing it with both hands and they watch that too. Together.

"And I know just how to get you hard," she purrs, pushing herself up, off his hand, canting her hips forward until she has him at her entrance. "And I know how to get you _off_."

She sinks down on him, clenching around him as she settles back on his lap, her hand finding his, fingers tangling as she brings it to her breast. He takes the initiative, pushing her dress aside so he can thumb her nipple, circling it, leaving it damp with the evidence of her own desire for him. She falls forward, her mouth landing hotly on his ear, flicking her tongue inside as she begins to rock against him. "Don't I?"

"Jesus, Kate," he groans and then he's brushing aside her other strap, letting them pool down her arms and the time for teasing is over when he tugs her nipple between his lips, sucking hard enough to make her hips buck against him, his hands clenching her waist quickening their rhythm. She kind of loves when she pushes him too far, when he finally snaps and wrests the control from her. Not the way he's always been able to with his words but instead with possessive hands and lips and tongue and, _God_ , his cock, buried so deep inside her.

He had waited so patiently for four years but if he'd ever demanded more from her she knows she wouldn't have made him stop. Wouldn't have been able to. God knows if they hadn't been on a case, if Espo and Ryan's lives hadn't been in their hands, their first kiss might not have ended until both of them had torn each others' clothes off and fucked it out against some stranger's car.

Exactly what they're doing now, actually, except they don't have to worry about saving their friends' lives, or her mother's case, or anything at all but how good it feels when he pulls her down to him, hips slamming together, his teeth worrying the sensitive skin of her breast as she clutches at him. He works her body like she's a story unfolding before him; knows exactly where to lick to make her moan, when to bite to make her curse, how to fill her up completely until her orgasm begins to unfurl exquisitely along her spine, gathering in her center and blossoming outwards.

"Do you think the driver can see us?" she moans, right on the edge, right _there_ , her body humming with maddening friction. She just needs something more, something else. _Something._ Him.

"No," Castle assures her, abandoning her breast to bite at her clavicle, his tongue wet and soothing on her inflamed skin, leaving a cool, slick trail in its wake. "The screen's still up. Dark."

"Too bad," she teases, smirks against his neck because she knows that will get to him. And it does, he gives her exactly what she needs then, thrusting up into her hard, so wonderfully hard, that she can't even stop the noise that gets caught in her throat, her eyes slamming shut, fingernails clawing at his shoulder as she breaks apart.

And he's still there, still going when she's done, when she's no longer quivering in mindless bliss but has enough coherent thought to reach behind her, underneath, finding the twin weights of his scrotum and massaging him as he keeps her hips rocking fast against his.

"Come on, Castle," she chants, pressing hard against his shoulder for purchase as she balances her weight, watching as each squeeze of her hand forces him closer to climax. "Come inside me."

And that's all it takes for him, all _he_ needs, just the very idea of it makes him come, wrecks him, always does and she fucking _loves_ that, loves the power she has over him. This amazing, brilliant, ridiculous man. Hers. All hers.

How the hell did that even happen?

Castle deflates underneath her soon after, spent, and she curls into him, tucking her face against his neck, breathing in the scent of his cologne, expensive and classic and addictive in a way that makes her want him again. Already. Although she always wants him. Now that she can have him, it's never enough.

"You smell so good," she murmurs, brushing her lips over his skin, her tongue darting out to taste him as his fingers skip lazily up her spine, hitting a spot between her scapulae that makes her shiver, press closer against him.

"Do you think the driver could _hear_ us?" she wonders innocently, and he groans her name, his fist curling in her hair as he brings her mouth up to his in response.

"You're going to kill me, Woman," he complains a moment later when she leaves his mouth to nibble teasing kisses along his jaw and she laughs wickedly, curling her tongue behind his earlobe with a deliberate flick.

"Don't worry, Castle. I'm not done with you yet."

 

 

 


End file.
